


Feeling the Knead

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Hannibal brings the entree, Humor, M/M, Team Sassy Science just wants some damn food, mayhem ensues, potluck dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will hosts a BAU potluck, Hannibal brings the entree. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling the Knead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DisraeliGears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisraeliGears/gifts).



> Based on a prompt from the wonderful DisraeliGears:  
>  _IM PROMPTING YOU LOL: Potluck. Everyone signs up. Bev: dessert. Alana: salad.Jimmy: hors d'oeuvres. Brian: Potato dish. Hannibal: Main course, obviously. Jack: veg and dip. Will offers up his big yard for the whole deal, plus he has a fire pit. SHENANIGANS ENSUES. And, I want a first kiss out of this. So. Yeah._

         “Tater tots? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jimmy sighed, looking to heaven. He turned to Jack. “I told you to put him in charge of napkins.”

         “I said I’d bring potatoes,” Brian scowled, holding a sack of frozen tots aloft. “These ARE potatoes. What’s the problem?”

         “Well, one, they’re still frozen,” Bev offered. “Two, Dr. Lecter will probably cry when he sees them.” 

         “I’m gonna put them in the oven right now! Christ!” Zeller stomped toward Will. “Can I borrow your oven, Graham?”

         Will opened his door, pointing toward the kitchen. Zeller brushed past him, muttering about Dr. Lecter’s palate and a two-for-one sale at Costco. 

         “See? THIS is why we should cater these things instead of relying on sign-up sheets,” Jimmy groused. “I work for hours on my crab puffs and what’s my reward? Tater tots and a non-dessert.”

         “Fruit salad is a perfectly good dessert!” Bev glared at Jimmy.

         “If you’re a bat!”

         “There’s chocolate and yogurt dipping sauces.”

         “Of course there are, because no one likes fruit! This whole thing is a goddamn disaster,” Jimmy snapped. “Well, I’m sure Dr. Lecter’s course will be good, and, uh, thanks for hosting, Will.”

        “Not a problem,” Will said. “It was either that, or sign up to bring tater tots.”

         Jimmy turned back to Jack. “Next year, I’m organizing the potluck.”

         Jack shrugged, handing Will a platter of tzatziki and crudité and helping Bella to a seat. She’d grown frighteningly weak in the past month, but had insisted on attending the BAU potluck. _Beverly tells me Will has some dogs, I think I’d like to watch them play_ she’d said to Jack.

         Will dragged his favorite arm chair out on the lawn for Bella, picking a spot in the sun and draping a blanket over the back, just in case. He’d cleaned up the yard in preparation for the dinner, even put an old table cloth and candles on the picnic table. Hannibal would probably call it _rustic_ , because _shithole chic_ would be rude. 

         Technically, Hannibal shouldn’t even be at a BAU event. Will had suggested inviting the doctor, who had enthusiastically volunteered to bring an entrée. Will told himself he’d signed Hannibal up because of the man’s food. Certainly it had nothing to do with the man’s smile, or the fact that their hour long sessions had stretched into two hour chats – fireside, with wine. Jack hadn’t even raised an eyebrow, neither had the rest of the science team. They knew better than to question what would inevitably be the best part of the meal.

         Will spotted the Bentley as it pulled into the drive. His heart fluttered slightly, but that was because of hunger, probably. When Hannibal emerged, dressed in a red and silver suit, he smiled directly at Will. The empath felt himself wave, but blushed when Beverly raised an eyebrow in his direction.

         Hannibal pulled a tray from the Bentley, a large roast resting in the center.

         “Good call inviting Hannibal,” Jack muttered in Will’s direction.

         “Yeah, Will, good call,” said Bev with a teasing smile.

         Will glared, but was distracted by the thunderous sound of paws beating across the porch. His pack wanted to greet Hannibal, or at least the roast. Will watched in horror as the dogs swarmed him, prodding at the doctor with their noses and winding around his feet. 

         Hannibal managed to maintain his balance admirably for a few minutes as snouts and tails assaulted him.

         Then, Buster made his move. 

         Taking a flying leap, the terrier launched himself at the tray of meat. Too many treats and long nights by the fire meant Buster couldn’t get the height he used to. He missed the tray, instead crashing into Hannibal’s gut like a cannonball. The doctor piked forward, bending just enough for Harley to knock the roast free of the tray. 

         The slab of meat disappeared in a cloud of fur and scrabbling dog limbs, Hannibal blinking in disbelief. Jack made a choking sound that could have been a sob. Bev and Bella fell on each other laughing. Will closed his eyes and wondered if death by embarrassment was an actual thing.

         “Nobody panic, we still have tater tots and fruit,” Jimmy deadpanned. 

         “Hannibal!” Will was running toward the stunned doctor, who still held the empty tray. “Christ! Are you ok? I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Back!”

         The pack cleared rapidly at the sound of Will’s command.

         “Back,” said Hannibal gazing at the rended meat and bone that were on the ground. “I wish I had thought to say that.”

         “I’m so – please – I’m sorry. What can I do?”

         “How about a McDonald’s run?” called Bev from the picnic table. 

         Hannibal smiled, a strong hand resting on the back of Will’s neck. 

         “Let us not be drastic, Ms. Katz,” Hannibal called, amused eyes still fixed on Will’s face. “I believe I can salvage this meal.”

         “How?” Will felt himself leaning into Hannibal’s touch.

         “Do you have flour and perhaps some eggs?”

         “Yeah.”

         “Wonderful.” Hannibal turned to the BAU crowd. “Please enjoy cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, I believe I can use my unconsumed ingredients to create a primavera sauce and fresh pasta. Will? Would you please retrieve the bag from the back of my car?” 

         Hannibal headed toward the kitchen, pausing briefly to press Bella’s hands into his own and smile fondly at Beverly. Will trailed after Hannibal, a bag of fresh vegetables in his arms.

         “Mr. Zeller, may I commandeer the kitchen?”

         “Fine, but when that timer goes off, take my tots out of the oven.” Zeller snagged a mostly full bottle of whiskey on his way out to the picnic table.

         “Tots?” Hannibal looked at Will for a translation. 

         Will waved his hand. “You won’t be eating them.”

         Hannibal nodded. He was opening cabinets and pulling out ingredients. He seemed oddly at home in Will’s kitchen.

          “Please Will, go enjoy your guests, leave me to the pasta and the tots.”

         Will lasted about ten minutes before he casually told the crew he was going to check on Hannibal. He tried to ignore Beverly’s snicker as he went back inside.

         “Hannibal, I just wanted to say sorry one more-” Will froze. Hannibal had removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his pristine white shirt. Had Hannibal’s waist always been so narrow? And sweet Jesus, covering that ass with a wool coat should be a crime. 

         Will’s mouth went dry as he watched the doctor work the mound of flour into dough. Hannibal’s back muscles stretched and pulled under his shirt, strong forearms flexed as he shaped the pile of ingredients into a paste. Will wanted to suck the doctor’s fingers clean. He wanted to suck many things, all of a sudden. 

         He felt warm breath on his skin before he registered that Hannibal had moved. Maroon eyes were surveying his face, scrunched with concern.

         “Can you hear me Will?”

         “Wha-Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Will shook his head trying to get the image of Hannibal’s hands out of his mind. The doctor was so close, so very fucking close. 

          “Did you lose time?” Hannibal’s mouth pursed slightly, it was more than Will could take.

          “No, I lost my fucking mind.” Will surged forward and kissed Hannibal, his hands settling on the doctor’s alpine cheekbones. Hannibal didn’t seem surprised by the kiss, his mouth acquiescing easily to Will’s. When the doctor nipped at his bottom lip, Will came back to reality. He pushed back, wide-eyed. 

         “I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I know I’m your patient-” Will ran a hand through his hair, making the curls stick out at odd angles. Hannibal caught Will’s chin with a gentle hand and tilted it to meet his eyes.

         “You’re not my patient, Will. You’re my friend,” Hannibal offered a small smile before leaning closer. “I don’t socialize with patients, nor do I allow them to manhandle me in kitchens.” 

         This kiss was softer, teasing. Will recognized it as a lure, but found he didn’t mind taking the bait. 

          He pressed in, tangling his hands in Hannibal’s hair. Hannibal grew more demanding, stroking his tongue against Will’s lower lip. Will groaned, opening his mouth and sinking into Hannibal’s chest. His knees felt weak, but luckily the firm hands on his ass were keeping him upright. 

         They broke apart and Will immediately drew his bottom lip into his mouth, the need to chase Hannibal’s taste too great to ignore. The doctor watched him with warm eyes, his breathing deep. Will rested his hands against Hannibal’s chest and was shocked at the solid mass he found

         “So…uh, what’s your policy on dating friends?” Will asked, wearing a mock innocent face. Hannibal bent to kiss the smirk from his lips.

         “I only date men who dress horribly, never take care of their beautiful curls, and travel with a horde of unruly mongrels.” Hannibal’s mouth curled at the edge. His hands were still on Will’s ass. Will was growing fond of the sensation.

         “You’re dating Zeller? Fuck!” Will was smiling as he pecked small kisses along Hannibal’s jaw. 

         “Poor Mr. Price, I would hardly classify him as a mongrel, Will.”

         Will laughed, then ducked his head. “Actually, would you, uh, mind if we kept this quiet for a bit? I don’t really need to hear Jack go nuts today.”

         “Of course.”

         “Thanks.” Will reached up and straightened Hannibal’s hair, gently stroking the locks back to their severe style. “There, good as new.”

         Hannibal smiled and stole one last soft kiss.

         “Take this platter to the guests, I shall finish the linguine.” Hannibal handed Will Jimmy’s tray of crab puffs. In the center, the doctor had arranged Zeller’s tater tots in a swirling mountain that almost made them look elegant. 

         Will turned to the door, carefully balancing the tray. On his ass were two perfect flour handprints, a stark design on his dark jeans. 

         “Will?”

         “Hmmm?”

         “You have some flour,” Hannibal paused, then touched his cheek, “Right below your eye.”

         Will carefully balanced the tray on one hand, then rubbed at his clean face.

         “Thanks! That would have been embarrassing.”

         “Indeed.” Hannibal smiled as he watched Will’s powdered ass saunter from view.


End file.
